The Squatter and the Don, originally published in San Francisco in 1885, is the first fictional narrative written and published in English from the perspective of the conquered Mexican population that, despite being granted the full rights of citizenship under the Treaty of Guadalupe-Hidalgo in 1848, was, by 1860, a subordinated and marginalized national minority.
María Ruiz de Burton's novel 'Who Would Have Thought It?' is a groundbreaking work that delves into issues of race, identity, and social class in post-Civil War America. Written in the unique style of a roman à clef, the book challenges traditional literary conventions through its critique of American society and its exploration of the complexities of cultural hybridity. Set against the backdrop of a changing nation, the novel offers a powerful commentary on the experiences of Mexican Americans during a time of upheaval and transformation. With its intricate narrative structure and thought-provoking themes, 'Who Would Have Thought It?' stands as a testament to Ruiz de Burton's innovative approach to storytelling and her commitment to shedding light on the marginalized voices of her time. María Ruiz de Burton's own background as a Mexican American woman living in the 19th century undoubtedly influenced her decision to write a novel that confronts issues of prejudice and discrimination. Her unique perspective and personal experiences bring a sense of authenticity to the narrative, making 'Who Would Have Thought It?' a compelling and enlightening read for anyone interested in exploring the complexities of identity and social justice in historical fiction.
A historical romance with an activist heart, and an impassioned critique of U.S. expansionism—with an introduction by Ana Castillo, author of So Far from God A fiercely partisan novel based on the author’s own experiences, The Squatter and the Don follows two families living near San Diego shortly after the United States’ annexation of California: the Alamares of the landed Mexican gentry, and the Darrells, the New Englanders who seek to claim the Alamares’ land. When young Clarence Darrell falls in love with Mercedes Alamar, the stage is set for a conflict that blends the personal with the political. A scathing critique of corporate capitalism, this story exposes the true historical plight of californios as their lands are taken away by a government with incestuous ties to the railroad monopoly—institutions laced with the greed and racism of nineteenth-century America’s expansionist agenda. The Modern Library Torchbearers series features women who wrote on their own terms, with boldness, creativity, and a spirit of resistance.
Signed in 1848, the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo ended the war between the United States and Mexico and gave a large portion of Mexico’s northern territories to the United States. The language of the treaty was designed to deal fairly with the people who became residents of the United States by default. However, as Richard Griswold del Castillo points out, articles calling for equality and protection of civil and property rights were either ignored or interpreted to favor those involved in the westward expansion of the United States rather than the Mexicans and Indians living in the conquered territories.
"A delightful novel...impossible to resist." —Barbara Kingsolver, Los Angeles Times Book Review Sofia and her fated daughters, Fe, Esperanza, Caridad, and la Loca, endure hardship and enjoy love in the sleepy New Mexico hamlet of Tome, a town teeming with marvels where the comic and the horrific, the real and the supernatural, reside.
In almost every country of the developing world, the most active builders are squatters, creating complex local economies with high rises, shopping strips, banks, and self-government. As they invent new social structures, Neuwirth argues, squatters are at the forefront of the worldwide movement to develop new visions of what constitutes property and community. Visit Robert Neuwirth's blog at: http://squatterci ty.blogspot.com
After being kicked out of her apartment in Brooklyn in 1992, and unable to afford rent anywhere near her school, young art student Ash Thayer found herself with few options. Luckily she was welcomed as a guest into See Skwat. New York City in the '90s saw the streets of the Lower East Side overun with derelict buildings, junkies huddled in dark corners, and dealers packing guns. People in desperate need of housing, worn down from waiting for years in line on the low-income housing lists, had been moving in and fixing up city-abandoned buildings since the mid-80s in the LES. Squatters took over entire buildings, but these structures were barely habitable. They were overrun with vermin, lacking plumbing, electricity, and even walls, floors, and a roof. Punks and outcasts joined the squatter movement and tackled an epic rebuilding project to create homes for themselves. The squatters were forced to be secretive and exclusive as a result of their poor legal standing in the buildings. Few outsiders were welcome and fewer photographers or journalists. Thayer's camera accompanied her everywhere as she lived at the squats and worked alongside other residents. Ash observed them training each other in these necessary crafts and finding much of their materials in the overflowing bounty that is New York City's refuse and trash. The trust earned from her subjects was unique and her access intimate. Kill City is a true untold story of New York's legendary LES squatters.
The 1848 Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, which transferred more than a third of Mexico’s territory to the United States, deferred full U.S. citizenship for Mexican Americans but promised, “in the mean time,” to protect their property and liberty. Erin Murrah-Mandril demonstrates that the U.S. government deployed a colonization of time in the Southwest to insure political and economic underdevelopment in the region and to justify excluding Mexican Americans from narratives of U.S. progress. In In the Mean Time, Murrah-Mandril contends that Mexican American authors challenged modern conceptions of empty, homogenous, linear, and progressive time to contest U.S. colonization. Taking a cue from Latina/o and borderlands spatial theories, Murrah-Mandril argues that time, like space, is a socially constructed, ideologically charged medium of power in the Southwest. In the Mean Time draws on literature, autobiography, political documents, and historical narratives composed between 1870 and 1940 to examine the way U.S. colonization altered time in the borderlands. Rather than reinforce the colonial time structure, early Mexican American authors exploited the internal contradictions of Manifest Destiny and U.S. progress to resist domination and situate themselves within the shifting political, economic, and historical present. Read as decolonial narratives, the Mexican American cultural productions examined in this book also offer a new way of understanding Latina/o literary history.
“The fascinating and little-known tale of the Lower East Side squatters of the Eighties . . . a radical, European-inspired housing movement” (The Village Voice). Though New York’s Lower East Side today is home to high-end condos and hip restaurants, it was for decades an infamous site of blight, open-air drug dealing, and class conflict—an emblematic example of the tattered state of 1970s and ’80s Manhattan. Those decades of strife, however, also gave the Lower East Side something unusual: a radical movement that blended urban homesteading and European-style squatting in a way never before seen in the United States. Ours to Lose tells the oral history of that movement through a close look at a diverse group of Lower East Side squatters who occupied abandoned city-owned buildings in the 1980s, fought to keep them for decades, and eventually began a long, complicated process to turn their illegal occupancy into legal cooperative ownership. Amy Starecheski here not only tells a little-known New York story, she also shows how property shapes our sense of ourselves as social beings and explores the ethics of homeownership and debt in post-recession America. “There are many books about the Lower East Side and its recent transformation, yet none has included engagement or oral history with primary organizers in the way Starecheski has. Ours to Lose is a unique and substantive contribution to our understanding of a most distinct practice in the shaping of urban space.” —Metropolitiques “What is significant is that the author demonstrates how some New Yorkers addressed the housing crisis in an unconventional manner. Recommended.” —Choice
